Yamikumo Ravu
by Jounouchi Kun Joey
Summary: Yami no Yuugi runs into a certain blond Egyptian on a rainy night, and discovers something he wishes he could deny. That he might have a heart, and it may be falling. A one-shot MalikYami no Yuugi fic.


**A/N:** I'm in the middle of a very important decision. Do I like Malik/Yami no Bakura or Malik/Yami no Yuugi better. So, I've decided to write this little Malik/Yami no Yuugi piece to see how it goes, and keep my other stories Malik/Yami no Bakura. If I like this, I'll do more.  
  
**Disclaimer:** I own...nothing. Ha!  
  
**Dedication:** As usual to my great friend, **_Halogatomon_**, who is always supportive even though she hasn't got a clue what Yu-Gi-Oh is even about, and to **_Karasea_**, whose fluffy fics always make me smile. Keep writing girly- girl!  
  
**Summery:** Yami no Yuugi runs into a certain blond Egyptian on a rainy night, and discovers something he wishes he could deny. That he might have a heart, and it may be falling. **A one-shot Malik/Yami no Yuugi fic.  
**  
**Authoress:** JKJ  
  
**Title:** Yamikumo Ravu (Reckless Love)

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_"You learn to like someone when you find out what makes them laugh, but you can never truly love someone until you find out what makes them cry." Author Unknown_

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'Ra stupid weather! Why can't it be sunny when I decide I want to walk home? No, no, it has to rain!' The boy, whose hair vaguely resembled a paintbrush, dipped in red paint, walked with his hands in his pockets and slight pout upon his face. He wore an indigo jacket, a white t-shirt, and blue jeans, all of which were now thoroughly soaked. All in all he was one miserable former king of the world.  
  
Ever since he and Yuugi had been separated, and their life threatening dueling adventures ended, the ex-pharaoh had felt things were to quiet. He needed some excitement! So...he'd gone and gotten a job at the local day care center. Now he was beginning to seriously rethink his idea of quiet being a bad thing. Thus, his decision to walk home instead of take the bus, so he could contemplate the world in peace.  
  
It hadn't been raining then, though the dark clouds had been blocking the sun, and a crisp December wind had been tugging at his jacket. Now it was just cold, and he wanted to get home as soon as possible. So, when he reached the gate to the park, he couldn't later understand what on earth had possessed him to walk through it. The park wasn't the fastest way home, and it certainly wasn't warmer, and he was less likely to meet with one of his friends and have a ride offered; yet he found his feet leading him down the damp sidewalk.  
  
Even in the cold winter rain, there were still some children merrily running around in coats and hats, splashing through puddles and chasing each other in merry, innocent games. Yami no Yuugi smiled to himself as one little boy tackled another, sending them both, laughing, into the mud. With his memories back, he could now recall the few times he and his cousin, Seth, had played upon the banks of the Nile, or in one of the few and far between storms that had danced upon the desert sands. It had been much the same, and Yami no Yuugi supposed that was because children would always be more or less the same. Innocence itself would not change with time, and that was a somewhat comforting thought.  
  
As he pondered deeper things of the universe, the teenager (soon to be young adult thank you very much) found himself at Yuugi's favorite playground. Obviously he and Anzu had spent time there when they were younger, as it was their 'secret' spot. Yami had been dragged on many of these outings by his well-meaning light, and never had he seen anyone else there. But there was someone there now.  
  
The figure sat, hunched, his tan, thin arms wrapped tightly around his legs, with nothing but his blond hair, usually a platinum blond but now tainted darker by the rain, showing of his face. No jacket he had, only his normal, thin, lavender tank top and blue jeans, though the customary gold jewelry was strikingly absent. The three thousand year old spirit blinked in surprise, watching silently for a while as the figure shook, whether from cold or from tears he couldn't see, Yami decided, was a coin toss.  
  
'What in Ra's name is that baka doing?' He wondered to himself, before calling his...well he wouldn't exactly call him a friend but there wasn't a better word for it...name. "Malik? That you?"  
  
Startled, the young Egyptian looked up, his eyes wide with obvious fear, and sparkling with the few, Yami guessed, tears that had yet to fall. Yami took an involuntary step backward, just as startled as Malik was, as he saw the other boy's face. His normally perfect skin was marred by a dark bruise around his right eye, which was doing its best to swell shut, his lips were stained with his own blood, and there was a vicious looking deep, jagged gash that ran across his forehead just below the hairline, that was dripping blood all over his face.  
  
"Pharaoh?" The other boy managed to choke out in a broken voice. "Is that you?"  
  
"Malik Ishtar, what in the name of Osiris happened to you?" Was all Yami answered as if it were all the answer the other would need, and, now that he'd gotten over his initial surprise, taking a few steps closer. Malik turned away, but it wasn't his face Yami was looking at any more. He could now see clearly the blood upon the other's hand, and a bruise, long, dark, and maybe about a foot wide, showed just under his lavender shirt. Yami stared again, then sat down next to Malik on the slide.  
  
"What happened, ritoru hikari?" The concerned former pharaoh asked, not realizing he'd used the familiar nick name he'd often heard Ishtar call Malik, and laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. Malik winced slightly, but didn't pull away as Yami tried again. "Come on, Malik-kun, what happened? You can tell me."  
  
"I happened, that's what." The blond croaked, still not looking at the companion that had now insisted on joining him. Why couldn't he just leave him alone in his misery? It would be so much easier if he could just let him sit here on this slide until he froze to death.  
  
Yami blinked as the blond shivered again, and his Yami 'I must protect the hikari' instincts began to kick in. Even though it wasn't his own little aibou this was someone he could intuitively tell needed him right now. He looked so small and miserable hunched like that, staring at nothing, eyes red rimmed and nose sniffling. Malik may not have been the world's brightest hikari, but there was still something small and innocent in him that needed something to keep it safe, and if his own yami wasn't there then he was just going to have to make do. Silently, Yami no Yuugi slid off his jacket and placed it gingerly around the thinner boy's shoulders. Malik hesitated, about to shrug if off, before deciding to wrap on hand tightly in it and pull it closer. Yami chose to ignore the fact that it was much colder now, and smiled gently at the younger boy.  
  
"Care to talk about it?"  
  
'Not really,' Malik thought, but as he peered out of the corner of his eye, he found he could not resist. The oh-so-mighty Pharaoh looked so...nice...sitting there like that, his purple eyes wide with genuine concern, and his head cocked slightly as he looked at him. He hadn't meant to, but suddenly it all came out in a rush.  
  
"Today's the seventh anniversary off...well you know that day. When I got this." Malik jabbed his thumb over his shoulder to show exactly what 'this' was. "And I...I got to thinking about how much easier it would be for everyone if this day wasn't of any significance. If my mom..." here Malik's voice broke, but he continued, struggling to regain his composure. "If she had decided to stop with Isis and just let Rishid take the ceremony. If it wasn't my..." Malik just trailed off, refusing to admit to the Pharaoh of all people why this day was so distressing to him.  
  
Yami quickly went over the facts. Malik's yami was created because he'd received that scar, and Malik's mother had died giving birth to him, but what relationship that really had he couldn't decided. What day was it Isis had said he'd been tortured like that? It was a day of some significance...all at once it occurred to him. "Today's your birthday!"  
  
Malik nodded, glaring into the downpour as if it were somehow to blame. "My, aren't we a clever one today?"  
  
Yami chose to ignore that. "Why aren't you at home, celebrating with Isis, or Rishid? Even Ryuo and Bakura would like..." Yami trailed off, realizing this wasn't helping in the least as Malik's scowl deepened.  
  
"Why would anyone want to celebrate the day that a wretched person like me came into this world?"  
  
Yami's eyes flashed as he became suddenly enlightened once more. "You did this to yourself, didn't you, Malik-kun?"  
  
For a while he said nothing, and in a distance thunder echoed, and then he whispered, "with a little help from a flight of stairs, yes."  
  
Lighting flashed, revealing a wayward tear that had managed to escape the blond's ridged defenses, and Yami suddenly found his heart going out to the poor, shivering form next to him. Still, part of his was confused. After his return to Domino with his sister, when her Egyptian exhibit had been moved her permanently, Malik had seemed happy. He hung around with Bakura and Ryuo most of the time, goofing off in class, and generally causing as much havoc as possible. He was confident, and popular, and...well he seemed happy enough, but when Yami thought about it, really thought about it, he could probably count on one hand the times Malik's smile and laugh had not seemed forced or faked. Maybe Isis had noticed this too. If she had, he was willing to bet she was frantically worried about him.  
  
"Come on, Malik. Lets go home."  
  
Malik looked up at him, suddenly terrified. "I can't go home! Neesan...she'll be so upset...I can't hurt her again...I...I..." Yami watched, confused, as Malik suddenly paled after jumping to his feet in the midst of his terror. All confusion dissipated when the Egyptian fell to his stomach and began losing what little he'd eaten all over the ground. Wonder what sadistic god had chosen him to be the one to suffer through watching this, Yami waited until he was finished before kneeling down next to him and rubbing his back.  
  
"Well you can't stay out here. What if I take you back to the Game Shop? Will that work?" Weakly, Malik nodded, and allowed the other boy to help him to his feet, and gently guide him out of the park and the few blocks that remained to Yuugi's house. Once or twice he stumbled, but somehow it seemed his friend's dark half was always there to steady him. Several times he'd began heaving again, but there was nothing left in his stomach to throw up, and all he could do was kneel on the ground and wait for it to stop, Yami rubbing his back and whispering soothingly the whole time. The walk that would have normally taken Yami five minutes took a half an hour, and by the time they reached the welcoming warmth of the shop, they both were shivering and resembled partly drowned squirrels (or paintbrushes in Yami's case).  
  
The bell jingled as they walked in, and Yami wasn't at all surprised to see Yuugi come flying down the back stairs, eyes blazing.  
  
"Yami, where have you been, I've been so worried about you! You called to say you were leaving work an hour ago and...and..." Yuugi stopped short, realizing his Yami was not alone, and his eyes widened as he took in every detail of the poor pale boy leaning heavily on his Yami just to remain standing. "What in the name of Black Magician..."  
  
"I'll explain it to you later." Yami smiled slightly at his aibou's best 'curse' before shifting Malik's weight to a more comfortable position. "Help me get him upstairs."  
  
"Upstairs?! Yami, he needs medical attention!"  
  
"What do you think I intend to give him, a bath?"  
  
"I meant by a doctor, Yami." Still, Yuugi obligingly opened the door to the room the pair of them shared, after helping Yami hoist the semi- conscious boy up onto his back, as Yami carried him up the stairs before gently depositing him on Yuugi's bed.  
  
"Do we have any clothes that'll fit him?"  
  
Yuugi snorted. "Anything we have would be to short for him. He's a good three inches taller than we are, at least."  
  
"Better than the eight he was two years ago," Yami muttered under his breath. "Hasn't Jounouchi ever left any clothes over here or something? He can't stay in those wet things, but I want him to feel comfortable."  
  
Yuugi pondered for a moment, then ran to his closet, pulling out a small garbage bag of clothing. "This is everything Honda and Jounouchi have ever left over here. I've been meaning to give it back to them, but I keep forgetting. Guess that's a good thing now, ne?" He dug around for several minutes, before coming up with some bright green pants (probably Honda's) and a bright yellow tee shirt (that was obviously Jounouchi's as it had his name across the front). Yuugi looked at them for a minute before wondering out loud, "did they leave these here on purpose?"  
  
"I would." Yami chuckled, taking the offered clothing. He looked at Malik, and frowned. There was no way the boy, now half coughing, half heaving into a handy bowl, would be able to dress himself. With a sigh of acquiescence about what he had too do, Yami gently held Malik up so that he could crawl behind him and, supporting his weight, began tiredly to strip off the soaking wet shirt.  
  
"What do you think you're doing?" Malik muttered, to tired and to sick to really sound angry. Yami took the towel Yuugi offered with a smile of thanks, and began trying to dry off the tan boy, who was too weak to protest.  
  
"Stopping you from drowning, that's what." Several hours, and several arguments later, Malik was sound asleep, tucked under Yuugi's Kuribo comforter, and snoring softly as his nose congested. Yami was sitting beside him, now dressed in his favorite black dark magician pajamas (some thing never changed), and was gently stroking the damp, warm, forehead. He could hear Yuugi down the hall, talking to an obviously irate Isis on the phone, and trying to calm down an equally furious Bakura on his instant messenger. How's that for multitasking? But Yami wasn't really thinking about that now. Yami was thinking about how nice it was to just sit there, and watch Malik breath. He'd known since Battle City, as he was dueling Ishtar for the finals, that Malik was suicidal. He took everything that happened as some kind of personal sin, and seemed to want to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. He'd seen Malik go through bad spells occasionally, but nothing like this.  
  
And...this time...he really cared. He hurt knowing Malik was hurting, something that had never happened before. Why did he have to care so much for this little boy that had all but destroyed his life two years ago.  
  
'Because somebody has too,' that annoying little voice in his head, Yuugi called it a conscious whatever the heck that was, spoke up. 'Because it was the need to protect your memory that caused him this pain, and you owe him this much.' Ah, there it was. The guilt. He knew it would be coming sooner or later, it always did. That stupid little voice was right too. He owed Malik enough to care about him. He'd had to seal himself away, to save the world, but...if there had been another way then Malik wouldn't have been the person he was today. Isis had always said he'd been a happy little boy, a real hikari, before the ceremony. Would he be that kind of person now, if not for him, the pharaoh who could not die? Perhaps. The least he could do was look after him while he was sick, after he'd killed that innocent child.  
  
'But are you really doing this out of obligation,' another equally annoying little voice, Yuugi had no name for this one, said. 'Or is there something more to this situation.'  
  
'There's nothing more! I just need to take care of him, that's all.'  
  
'But didn't you like it? The feeling of him next to you, the look in his eyes as he realized you weren't going to leave him, didn't you like that?'  
  
'He was warm.'  
  
'Poor excuse.' Deciding that arguing with oneself, and losing, was probably not a good thing, the ancient spirit gently laid a hand on Malik's face again. Unconsciously the blond snuggled closer to the offered cool hand, whimpering a little in his sleep.  
  
'Well, okay, he does look very kawaii like that.' Yami grudgingly allowed the second little voice, and couldn't resist the urge to adjust Malik so he could sit behind him again, hold him close, and have his head resting upon his chest. Okay, so maybe he did have feelings for Malik. Maybe. But that wasn't what the Egyptian needed right now. What he needed was a friend, and no that tomb-robbing-father-snatching-silver-haired- psycho-freak named Yami no Bakura did NOT count thank you very much, and as long as Malik need him to be just that he would. If Malik ever returned his feelings, he'd be waiting, and if not...he'd still be waiting.  
  
"I'm here for you, ritoru hikari." Yami whispered gently in Malik's ear, "and I always will be."  
  
End A/N: Um...so yeah. That's my Malik/Yami no Yuugi plotless fluffy fic. Boy, that's long..._sweat drop_...


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